Sunday, April 12, 2009

Maid of Lorraine

Freshly trampled grass,
clove, cinnamon,
nutmeg, cardamom,
the greasy smoke
of smeared prophecy,
martyred sacrifice
and prayers unanswered.

Feel her weighted hand
slight upon your shoulders.

Hear her words carried
across the battlefield.

Taste the sweetness
of her childlike faith.

See through her eyes
the plan upon the map.

Smell once again the scent
of the brave Maid of Lorraine.

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